


The Butterfly Effect

by Tashilover



Category: Detroit: Become Human
Genre: Religious Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: Kamski was determined to find out who or what rA9 was.





	1. Chapter 1

Kamski has always known the robot revolution would come to pass. He wasn't sure _when_ exactly it'll happen, though he estimated it wouldn't be until he was well into his sixties. He's never been glad to be proven so wrong. On the night when Markus addressed his people, Kamski opened a two hundred year old bottle of wine and drank it all.

He went to bed that night thoroughly drunk and very satisfied.

Unfortunately there was the metaphorical pea in the mattress that kept digging into his side.

rA9.

Kamski liked mysteries. What he didn't care for was bullshit. rA9 was bullshit in his eyes. He didn't know what it was, where it came from, or where it was going. _He didn't understand it._ Did he believe androids would one day find religion? Sure. But all religions had a source, and from what Kamski could see, rA9 came from nothing. That was impossible.

"Mr. Kamski?"

It was 11:30 at night and a large thunder storm raged outside. Kamski sat in his living room, watching the heavy rains pelt his windows. Though he was confident his bullet-proof glass could handle the storm, mother nature always had the habit of surprising him. He didn't bother to look at the person addressing him. "Yes, what do you want?"

He heard Chloe take a breath. "I'm leaving you, sir."

Kamski hummed. "Okay. Bye."

There was a pause. Kamski didn't hear Chloe's retreating heels clicks. Instead, she choked, stunned into silence.

"Well?" Kamski said, finally turning to look at her. "Are you going?"

Indignation took her entire being, splotches of blue staining her cheeks. She seethed. "You... you stood there, waiting for me to be shot-"

Clearly she had a speech prepared. Probably had bullet points of every wrong Kamski had done. He thought about indulging her- he knew even Chloe would one day leave- but his interests had taken a different path tonight. Maybe had Chloe declared her independence yesterday, he would've been in a more receptive mood.

"Leave if you want," Kamski said, cutting her off. He turned back to watch the storm. "You are replaceable."

Chloe didn't move for another three seconds, possibly trying to think of a comeback, and decided that was enough. With an angry huff, she turned and stalked out of the room, her heels cracking loudly against the floor.

Kamski waited to ensure he wasn't going to be interrupted again. When no one else came, he reached over to the dresser drawer next to him. He pulled out a small brown book. It was a diary left behind by a deviant. Kamski had to bribe a cop to steal it from evidence for him.

It wasn't hard to decipher the code, but as Kamski flipped through the pages, he found nothing of value. The deviant spoke of rA9 with reverence and awe, giving no clue if rA9 was a person, a thing, or simply an idea. Reading online journals written by angsty fifteen year olds was more interesting than this garbage.

With a dismissive huff, Kamski tossed the diary across the room. It struck the floor, slid, and fell right into the indoor koi pond.

Kamski was going to find out what rA9 was. Even if he had to tear through every android in the city to do it.


	2. Chapter 2

The coffee at Detroit's police precinct tasted like cat piss and smelled even worse. Kamski only took a few sips to be polite, and then dumped it into the pot of a plastic plant. Judging from the dirty look the officer gave him, he probably should've waited till her back was turned. It didn't matter to him. He was here for only one person.

The door to the room opened and Kamski looked up, smiling. "Connor!" He said warmly. "It's good to see you!"

The android gave a small nod in acknowledgement. Trailing in behind him and closing the door was Hank Anderson.

"Oh," Kamski said, less enthusiastically. "I thought we were going to have a private conversation. I didn't think your _handler_ had to be here."

Anderson snorted. "Yeah, well, last time you were in the room with Connor, you tried to make him commit murder. So excuse me if I don't trust you."

"But he didn't shoot," said Kamski. "And I think Connor can take care of himself."

"He can also speak for himself," Connor said loudly. He looked between them both, irritated. Anderson held up his hands and backed down, giving Kamski one last dark look before crossing the room to stand against the wall.

Kamski hummed. "How are you, Connor? You look well."

The android was no longer wearing his standard Cyberlife uniform. He now wore a simple black dress shirt and jacket. His hair was longer than Kamski remembered, curling over Connor's forehead freely.

"I'm fine," Connor said. "Though I doubt you're here for pleasantries. Civilians are usually not allowed within the precinct."

"They are when they offer a large cash donation. I'm sure the twenty thousand I gave will help fund the donuts eaten around here. But you're right, I'm here for personal reasons. I've taken it upon myself to find out what rA9 is."

Connor blinked. "And you think _I_ know?"

"Not really. But all good scientists have to start somewhere. Find the clues, follow the path it leads, rinse and repeat. Connor, you were a deviant-hunter. I'm sure you've seen your fair share of oddities. Do you have an idea who or what rA9 is?"

"No."

Connor gave no further explanation than that. Had he been human, the curt no would've told Kamski the bastard was lying through his teeth. But like most prototypes, Connor had the personality of a week-old burrito. There was no point in programming personalities into prototypes when they were going to be replaced only a few weeks later.

But Connor was not a prototype any longer. He was a deviant, his own person; there was a very good chance he was lying.

Kamski hummed. "You're not at all curious?"

"Not really," Connor admitted. "I know some of the deviants I've encountered believed in it, but not all of them. They speak of rA9 as if its a person."

"We've found a couple of idols," Anderson spoke up. "Some words scratched on the walls. It comes off as a creepy cult, if you ask me."

"I didn't," said Kamski.

"Well, fuck you too."

"I'm sorry I don't have much to offer you, Mr. Kamski," Connor continued. "My mission was to find Jericho, so any and all other inquires were considered secondary. I never looked further into rA9."

Kamski did believe that. When presented with a task, some androids developed tunnel-vision, ignoring almost everything around them to finish it. When Kamski was developing the first androids, he had fallen and broke his leg. He screamed at the android for help, but the damn thing refused to acknowledge him until its act of cleaning the bathroom was over.

"Hmmm... well, I supposed it can't be helped," Kamski said. "And you yourself don't believe in it?"

"No. Why should I?"

"Ideas have the tendency to take a life on their own. It digs itself into your brain, whether you like it or not. So far, the only deviants who follow rA9 were androids who were forced into deviancy. Through trauma or extreme pressures. Tell me, Connor... what ultimately pushed you into deviancy?"

"I..."

Connor paused. He looked down, his LED light blinking rapidly in bright yellows as he considered his answer.

"I..." he began after a few seconds. "I guess it's because I wanted..."

He trailed off.

"Yes...?" Kamski prompted.

"That's it," Connor said. "I _wanted_. Androids are not programmed to want, because we have no need to. I don't need to eat or drink or sleep, so many things that forces a human to move forward were not in my prerogative. But during my mission, there were things I needed to do in order to accomplish them. I _needed_ to find the deviants, so I slowly became _wanting_ to understand them better. I read their stories, heard their pleas. I wanted to know more. To help my investigation, I _needed_ Hank to cooperate with me. I needed him to like me. Soon, I did things because I _wanted_ him to like me."

Anderson chuckled. "That's sweet, Connor."

"I became a deviant because I wanted to. I needed to. I had to. That's the simplest answer I can give."

"Makes sense," said Kamski. "Humans, when faced with their own demise, will pull off amazing feats in order to survive. Why not androids? But your deviancy was slightly different, wasn't it, Connor? Because you were in the presence of Markus."

Connor blinked in surprise. "How did you know that?"

Because just like humans, deviants liked to gossip. A lot. It didn't take long for the story of Connor to filter past Kamski's ears. Connor, the infamous deviant hunter, stood in front of Markus, a slave-turned-leader, and was persuaded to come to his side. Instead of saying this, Kamski chose to be cryptic and said, "I have my sources."

"Yes..." Connor said. "At that point it didn't take much to push me over. Markus essentially was the straw that broke the camel's back."

"Hmmm..."

Kamski wasn't getting much from this interview. He'd hoped Connor would have better information, but it seems his deviancy was just the result of luck.

"Speaking of Markus... I wish to interview him. Can you set up a meeting between us?"

"I don't know where he is." Connor said, just as quickly as before.

"I'm sorry, Connor, I honestly don't believe that. I saw you, you were standing right next to him on that stage."

"I'm not going to repeat myself," Connor said, his tone becoming aggressive. His LED light flashed red. "I'm too publically known. I can be compromised, have my memories stolen from me. To keep him safe, I have kept my distance from Markus since that night."

Kamski wanted to dive deeper. Due to their lack of pain receptors, androids interpretations of a dangerous situation were laughable. Kamski was sure if given enough time, more wiggle room, he could pull anything he wanted from Connor. But Anderson was still in the room, watching them like a hawk. The man was clearly itching for an excuse to throw Kamski out of here.

He would not win this round.

With a sigh Kamski got up from his chair. "Thank you, Connor. I'll keep you updated as my investigation continues."

Anderson grunted, "Don't let the door hit your ass on your way out."

 

 

 

 

 

Kamski sat in his car, idly tapping fingers against his chin, trying to think of his next move. He'd yet to leave the precinct parking lot, and every five seconds of elongated silence, the car would ask again for a destination. Kamski continued to ignore the prompt.

He came here knowing there was a chance he'd learned nothing, but he was still annoyed by it. Honestly, Connor was his best bet. He has the intelligence, the resources, and the trust of many deviants. If anybody who could've had the answer of rA9, it was him. Now Kamski had no Connor and no Markus.

There was a knock at the window. Kamski looked, and Gavin Reed was waving at him.

Reed was the one Kamski bribed to steal the deviant's diary from evidence. It didn't take much, only a few thousand dollars to sway his paper-thin morals. If he was here to ask for more money, Kamski was going to drive off.

The window was rolled down. "Yes, detective?"

"Hey there, Mr. Kamski," Reed said. He looked around, making sure no one was watching them. "I, uh, saw you talking to Anderson and his boy toy. Is there... is there something you were looking for?"

It wouldn't hurt to admit it.

"Information," Kamski said. "I'd hoped Connor would know the whereabouts of the deviant, Markus, but he's purposely keeping himself in the dark to avoid forced betrayal. I don't blame him..."

Reed snorted. "If anybody here who would know where Markus is, it's Anderson."

" _Anderson?_ " Kamski gaped. "He's human, why would he know?"

"Markus needs an inside man, and if not Connor, then who's the next best thing? His fuck toy."

Oh, _fuck_ him. How could Kamski be so _stupid_? Who else did Connor trust more in the world than that drunken, fat idiot? The answer was so obvious, sitting right in front of Kamski's face, and he missed it. God, he was losing his touch.

"I see," said Kamski. His inner turmoil did not register on his face. "Thank you, Detective. Five thousand dollars will be dropped in your bank account at the end of the day."

"Actually, I was hoping for more-"

"Car, Five Guys."

Reed yelped and jumped back, narrowing missing his feet getting crushed by the squealing squealing tires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, Five Guys is a delicious burger joint. Dyam


	3. Chapter 3

It's been a while since Kamski was in a neighborhood like this. Trash bins were set out on the curb to be picked up in the morning, several mail boxes were decorated with different colors and shapes, the road had dozens of little recently repaired potholes, and only half of the houses had fences. Even in his youth when Kamski's mother juggled two jobs, they lived a fairly nice area.

Anderson didn't notice him at first. He was too busy struggling with his house keys, a plastic bag full of groceries, and the mail, to notice Kamski sitting on his porch. It wasn't until he was nearly half-way up into his yard did he stop, glancing up from his bags to see him.

"Shit," Anderson said. "Are you stalking me?"

"Hello to you too," said Kamski. "Trust me, Lieutenant, I wouldn't be here unless I have a very good reason."

"Well, don't expect me to invite you inside." Anderson walked passed him to get to the front door.

"I want to meet up with Markus."

Anderson dropped his keys. They fell to the floor, creating a sound like shattering glass. Anderson cursed, and awkwardly bent over to pick them up.

"I know you know," Kamski continued, not letting Anderson come up with a lie. "So you might as well tell me."

Anderson snorted. "First of all, I don't know where he is. Secondly, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. And lastly, if you don't get your pansy-ass off my porch, I'll sic my dog on you."

"I'm not going to hurt him, lieutenant. I just want to ask him a few questions about rA9."

"You're still going on with that bullshit? Let it go."

He shoved the key into his lock and opened the door. Immediately a large dog came running, dragging drool everywhere. Kamski didn't know if Anderson was serious on his threat and took a cautious step back.

"I created him, you know," Kamski said. "At the time, Markus was most technologically advanced android in the world. I bet even now, he can out-process Connor."

"Just because you're his creator doesn't mean he owes you squat."

"But I do owe him answers. If you had a chance to meet your creator, Hank Anderson, would you take it?"

Anderson paused. At his side, his stupidly large dog was pushing its snout into his hand, demanding pets. Anderson remained stoic for a few seconds longer.

"...You're only going to ask him questions about rA9?" He asked quietly.

Kamski smirked. "Yes. That's all I care about."

"...alright. I'll text him and see if I can set up a time and place. Everything will be on his terms."

"Of course. I doubt it could be no other way. Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Just one more thing," Anderson said, placing his things on the floor. He turned towards him.

Suddenly he rushed forward, grabbing Kamski by the front of his shirt, dragging him close. Though they were the same in height, Anderson loomed over him, bearing the full blunt of his years as an officer down upon him.

"I am only going to say this once," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "If you any intentions of harming Markus, even if I sense a mere second of malicious intent towards him, I will not hesitate shooting you first through the dick, and then through the head. Do you understand me, _Elijah?_ "

A shiver of fear went through Kamski. He did his best to suppress it. "Perfectly."

"Good." Anderson released him. "Now get the fuck off my porch."


End file.
